Misery Loves Company
by Ispell2
Summary: Four years. Courier 6 aka Leda has been wandering and protecting the people of Nevada along with her most trusted and beloved friend, Craig Boone for four years. And it's taken four years (and a bottle or two of whiskey) for her to finally tell him her own backstory - and it turns out to be one not too different from his own. All that's left? Is to determine their future together.
1. Chapter 1

A grizzled old woman hopped (as much as a grizzled old woman can) up and down for joy at the sight of three recognizable figures off in distances, their silhouettes eclipse the heavy sunset behind them as they strode quickly towards her rickety old house. When they were within twenty feet of her she stood still breathlessly, a huge smile on her tear-streaked face, and clasped her hands. Her boy was home!

The young man looked at her sheepishly before being nudged towards her by the woman with him - the same woman she'd hired to go after the Legionaries who'd stolen him roughly a week before. She paid little mind to the young woman and her companion though. She was too busy wrapping her arms around her gawky teenage son. Suddenly she pulled away and looked him over seriously, her lips pulling into a thin line as she scanned over every inch of his exposed skin.

"What's wrong ma?", the boy asked his elderly mother nervously.

"Shush Darren", she quickly replied, lifting his arms up to poke at the underside.

When she was satisfied with her inspection she cupped her son's face in her wrinkled hands and smiled once again, beaming back and forth between the young man and the pair who'd brought him back to her.

She walked past her son with his hand in hers - an uncomfortable gait for the boy as he was at _least_ a foot and a half taller than his mother - and stopped in front of her child's saviors.

"Bless you! Bless you both! You brought my Darren back to me with barely a bruise or scratch on 'im! He's all I have left in this world, and since the damn Legion stole him I just haven't known what to do! I'm too old, too frail to go get him m'self, an' ah don't even know where to _look_ to find someone who would go against the Caesar to get my son back without asking for more than ah could _ever_ stand to own! Please; take this. It's everythin' ah've made in the last year, but it's the absolute _least_ ah kin give y'all for bringin' my most precious possession back to me!"

She expected them to snatch up the caps, tell them both "You're welcome", and be on their way; but the young woman merely pulled her Rattan hat backwards on her head to expose her face more, revealing a kindly yet slightly embarrassed smile. Though her face was fairly delicate in features, her grin reached ear to ear across a prominent smattering of freckles, and a thick lock of dark red hair hung past her chin. Her face was dirty and had more than a few cuts, bruises, and scars on it - but that smile made her glow like rad-pool and somehow soften her rougher features, making even the reinforced metal armor she was sporting seem comforting.

Her companion was a bit more of a contrasting figure, however. If the young lady was a bright, sunny, friendly sort of folk, then her friend by her side was a completely blank shade of grey. Sunglasses hid any emotion in his eyes, and his lips not so much as _twitched_ with a tilted grin at the sight of the family reunited. The girl may have been heavily armored, but _he_ was heavily _armed_. She wondered what a man like that was doing wandering the Mojave with a cheery, angel of a girl like her.

She remembered her own late husband of course, and how she'd ended up with her dear Darren. Opposites attract.

"Ma'am... I really can't be acceptin' _any_ a' that. Didn't help y'all fer the money", the red-head told her as politely as she could with such a heavy drawl.

The old woman lowered her hands and offered a perplexed expression.

"Ah don't have any weapons or supplies ah kin offer yuh instead..."

"Oh, Ma'am you misunderstand! I don't want _anythin'_ from you an' yer boy!"

"Ahm afraid y'lost me sweetheart."

A bit frustrated, she pulled the hat she'd just straightened off her head and held it to her chest.

"I didn't do it fer a reward. I just wanted t'help. Y'know, a lil' good-will n' all that? Reckon kindness builds on each person it touches. Just be sure to pass that kindness on, ma'am, that's all I ask."

The old woman was shocked.

"B- but ah can't just send y'all away empty handed!", she said with a cry.

Her eyes flickered to the sky, already lit up with hundreds of stars in the black desert air.

"Alright then. You won't accept payment. But ah _demand_ that y'all let me feed ya."

Red-hair started to protest, but the old woman hit her with a hard-eyed glare.

"Ain't takin' "no" for an answer you two. Come on inside an' pull up a chair. Darren honey, help this nice young lady set the table. You, Mr. Dark-and-Brooding, kindly help me carry dinner out from the kitchen?", she commanded, leading everyone inside.

* * *

Leda pushed herself away from the table and leaned back in her chair. She hadn't had a meal this good - or one she actually _got_ to enjoy - in God knows how long. Even Boone had to admit to himself that it was such a meal that he'd eaten just a bit too much. For such a fabulous cook, this old woman and her son didn't look the part of a family who knew how to eat _right_. Perhaps it was just a special occasion, getting her boy back.

The old woman slapped the table.

"How'd y'all like my famous bighorner brisket? I hope th' maize casserole was to yer likin' you two!", she cackled heartily, watching the pair with dark, warm eyes half closed.

"Ma'am that was the damned tastiest thing I've ever eaten, I swear t'God! How'd y'learn t'cook like _that_?!", Leda asked sluggishly yet enthusiastically.

The woman waggled her finger and clucked at her.

"Language young lady; I know it's a harsh line a'work y'got 'n all, but in this house we mind our words! And please Miss Red; call me Cecilia!"

"...Alright... Cecilia. You go ahead 'n call me Leda then. Well, you could call me whatever you want I s'pose, ain't got any preference or anythin' like that. Had an Auntie that use't call me "Thorn the Rose". Mouthful, ain'it? Se said it was on accoun'a me bein' a cute lil sweetheart when I was a lil' sprout, but havin' a bit of a wild streak."

Cecilia smiled widely once again, and she let out a hearty, booming guffaw that sounded more in place on a 60 year old cowboy, not a little old purple-haired 57 year old widow and farmer who couldn't have weighed more than 140 lbs soaking weight.

"Oooooo, darlin'!", Cecilia said as she wiped tears from her eyes, "Alright, Rosey, ain't nothin' special; just somethin' I picked up from _my_ mama when I was around your age. Yer mama didn't teach you t'cook?"

Leda shook her head.

"She couldn't cook to save her life. She weren't around much either, 'specially after I turned 13", Leda answered politely, though a bit more quietly than Boone was used to.

He took notice. Leda could handle her liquor in a capacity to rival Cass (almost), but get a few drinks in her and her overtly-generous-and-kind personality and constant friendly smile melted away if you poked at her with the right questions. At least Boone was _always_ apparently in a mood; no one would take notice if he got more defensive or more quiet than normal, because he was _always_ defensive and quiet. Leda on the other hand? She was genuinely a good person with a heart big enough for everyone in the wastes and the deathclaws too. But even happy people have their memories and moments. Until recently, he'd never even considered that she had some kind of history. He'd let her ask him questions, and when she got too nosey he'd let her know and she'd apologize then give him that sympathetic look that made his stomach clench - but he hadn't realize that it was dread rather than loathing-of-pity that made him feel that way. Because he'd finally placed a name on that sympathetic look.

It was the look of someone who - rather than just vividly imagining being in your shoes to better understand - _truly did_ understand. And she was too good a person for him to take that something she could have done could ever measure up to what he had to do for Carmen.

And there that question was, chipping away at her plaster-molded smile, encased in heavy red and bordered by rosy cheeks - the kind you get when whiskey stings them like a cazador.

But Leda knew how to mask herself all too well.

"Aw, ain't _that_ a shame! Pretty young thing like yerself'd be able to find a hubby like _that_!", Cecilia said with a snap of her fingers.

Leda blushed.

"Oh! Or a wife. My apologies if I made any improper assumptions dearie, just a mother's wishful thinkin'!"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind either _or_ , Ma'a- ah, Cecilia. I love me a handsome fella like your Darren there, or a lovely lady such as yerself!", Leda replied innocently.

"Oh, you flatterer!", Cecilia laughed, smacking her son on the back.

The poor boy merely flashed a weak smile on his canyon-red face - and only a little of it was from sunburn.

"If it's alright with you, Cecilia, may I ask about this recipe? If it don't take too long to make, it'd sure come in handy out in the waste. 'Course, I'd never be able to make it like you, but..."

"Oh a'course honey! It's th'least I kin do fer ya! An' if you two are ever out n' around these parts, please; don't hesitate to come straight here for some R&R! I'd be more'n happy t'feed y'all again."

"Aw, yer too kind! Thank you fer the offer. We'll be sure to take you up on it, dependin' on the circumstanc-"

Leda raised her hand to her mouth in an attempt to hide what was coming, but an enormous yawn pulled her cherry-red lips into a gaping chasm. The food, the drink, and the relaxing atmosphere of a little kitchen in the house of a Brahmin Baron's widow was too much, and she couldn't help that she was beginning to melt into a deep sleep.

"Oh, bless your heart, it's already past 10! Honey, won't y'all sleep here t'night? Can't get much done at this time a'night, not t'mention you're all tuckered out!", Cecilia begged.

"Oh, no, we couldn't, I don't wanna impo-"

Leda yawned once more.

Boone looked from Leda to Cecilia to Darren, hung his head a bit, and took a sigh.

"Alright. We'll stay the night. Thank you ma'am", Boone said with his usual monotone expression.

Though he had more control over his yawning, the itis had gotten to _him_ as well. With his stomach full of delicious hot food and fiery liquor, his head felt like it was encased in lead and stuffed with cotton.

"Oh wonderful! If ya'll'll stay here and help Darren clean up, I'll go set up the guest room for you two! Darren sweetie?", Cecilia said delightedly.

"Yes mama, I heard you. How about since you like talking these folks' ears off so much, _I_ go and fix it up instead?", he answered, a little patronizingly.

Just patronizingly enough that his mother smack him on the back of his head with an audible - _thwak!_ -.

"Boy, mind yer mouth _and_ yer mother! Alright Mr. Smartass, git to!"

Darren wandered away from the kitchen with a cocky grin on his face, rubbing his neck lightly.

"I'm sorry about my son, he gets that attitude a'his from his daddy; man was from the Commonwealth after all", Cecilia shook her head, "Gets his looks from me though, a'course!"

Boone and Leda shared a glance at the obvious joke; the only way you could tell Cecilia and Darren were related at all was that they shared an eyecolor that was a very unique shade of aqua-green and the same general boisterous personality - Darren was considerably darker in both complexion and hair color than his mother.

"Now; why don't you two come with me, and we'll set y'all up with a nice nightcap?"

* * *

Only, it wasn't "a" nice nightcap. It was three. Three shots of the same whiskey they'd been shooting for four hours - and Boone didn't like to admit it, but he was already swimming before. It's not "manly" to have less of an ability to remain sober than your buddy; you'd think that his reputation for ruthlessness in battle and stoic attitude would already have proved - even to himself - that his uncanny talent for inebriation would be outweighed in terms of masculinity, but no dice.

Leda knew about it though. She'd known for years now, ever since they celebrated the victory at the Dam with a bottle of rum she'd been traded for a couple of stimpaks. And try as she might to play up her own drunkenness to mask his, Boone still stumbled a bit as they followed Cecilia back to the first floor room she'd labeled as the 'guest room'.

"Bless both yer hearts, y'all're completely trashed ain'tcha?", Cecilia smiled embarrassed.

"Iiiiii think we should get _that_ one to that bed you were talkin' about pretty quick here, he ain't got much in the way a'sea legs!", Leda laughed, patting Cecilia on the shoulder.

"-Leda!", Boone mumbled reaching out to touch the wall to steady himself a bit.

"Yeah? Then let go of the wall."

Boone did _not_ let go of the wall.

"Uh-huh. No shame in it honey. Neither does Darren!"

"Mama!", Darren cried from his room at the top of the stairs.

"Oh shush you lightweight! I still love you!", Cecilia cackled, herself tipsier than she'd give notice of freely.

She gestured to a dimly lit room next to the staircase and made her to her own bedroom.

"Thank you again fer th' room tonight!", Leda shouted.

"My pleasure kids! Oh, and I've got a lil' surprise fer ya; that room right down there?", Cecilia gestured to a closed room on the first floor just across the hall from them. "It's a bathroom. A _workin'_ , _fully functional_ bathroom. As in, it's got a bathtub and a shower rolled up inta one. The soap ain't nothin' special like over in them hotels on the strip, but it's got a lil' bit of a scent to it, and there's plenty of it. Even got some shampoo!"

From what Leda gathered, that bathroom was Cecilia's pride and joy. Maybe even a little more than her son, she thought with a silent chuckle.

"Lord! How'd you get ahold of _scented_ soap?! Only place I've seen that stuff is on the Strip, in vaults, and the Big Empty! Especially _shampoo_ , I've gotta know how you managed _that_!", Leda gasped, her jaw dropping and her eyes glowing with the thought of smelling like something other than sweat or animal fat.

"Oh-oh-oh, I've gotta keep _some_ a'my secrets. Let's just say I know a gal who runs a caravan that's signed with the Crimson Caravan, and runs to an' from California every now n' then. As for th'soap, I make it m'self!", Cecilia beamed.

"How the h- er, how d'y'make _soap_?"

" _She's pretty damned proud of that bathroom. What's so impressive about some pre-war tech that most people who manage to live in conditions above a shack in the middle of the desert have?_ ", Boone wondered, growing increasingly bored of all this talk about toiletries.

He was too tired to pay attention to a conversation as menial as soap. He was a bit more relieved than would be normal when he realized Cecilia was walking up the stairs.

"G'night! Sweet dreams! Don't puke in that room or I ain't makin' y'all breakfast!", he heard their hostess shout as she finally left them from atop the stairs, not turning to face them.

Boone grabbed ahold of the doorframe and peered in whilst Leda waved back at Cecilia, oblivious to the fact that she couldn't see her wave.

"Ain't she just the sweetest woman? I can't believe she even offered t'clean our clothes! She's gonna bring some down in a second. So thoughtful!"

"Yeah."

"And the way she talks about that bathroom you'd think it was coated in solid gold!"

"No kidding."

"She even has some clothes she could lend _you_. Which is great, because frankly you reek."

"Hmm."

Leda turned around and immediately realized what he was so interested in; a single mattress lay on the floor, a pair of pillows and a couple of blankets folded at the end of it.

She gave Boone a look that asked him if he was _really_ unsure of what to do about the situation. She'd gotten very good at reading his face over time, and right now she could see the gears and cogs slowly turning in his mind.

"Y'know we could just set up a pilla' between us if _that_ is such an issue, right?", she said with a smirk.

Boone kept his gaze on the mattress, but nodded and walked into the room. He knelt down on the ground and flopped onto the bedding, face up.

"Graceful."

"Mhmm", Boone replied, folding his hands over his forehead and stretching.

Leda felt along the wall until she found a hook that held the curtain in the doorway to the side and untied it, letting the fabric fall into place with a slight breeze that made the already cool night-air blow against her bare arms and cover them with bumps. She shivered and look around the curtain at her armor, which she'd removed prior to sitting down at the dinner table. She considered putting the shoulder pads back on for the warmth they provided, but decided against it after remembering that they were covered with metal spikes - and she'd be having a bunkmate tonight.

So instead, she kicked off her boots and began to roll down her jeans. She'd already stepped out of one leg when Boone, who had taken notice of the sound of rustling denim, realized what she was doing.

"Hmm. Uh, Leda... What are doing?", he asked a little too calmly.

On the outside, he was mildly surprised. On the inside, his heart skipped a beat at the shock of his closest friend removing her clothes with him right there and possibly watching.

"I'm gonna head for that bath, I haven't gotten a chance to clean up since the last time we were in Novac, somethin' like two weeks ago!", she answered vigorously.

Boone sat up again and groaned at the strain of doing so while drunk.

"I guess I'd better go first then If I want to freshen up myself. You always take forever", he said with mild humor in his voice, heading for the bathroom.

Leda stuck out her tongue, but remained silent. He _was_ right, after all.

* * *

Boone wasn't gone for ten minutes, and when he came back Leda could discern each and every scar on what she could see of his body. Adorned in a fresh shirt and a pair of clean pants, and clean shaven from his head to his neck, he seemed a bit lighter in mood _and_ appearance.

"S'all yours", he mumbled, falling back onto the mattress.

"I'm gonna scrub myself _so hard_ , I'm gonna have blisters for a week!", Leda replied excitedly.

"... Just... Don't wake me up when you get back."

"I make no such promises."

* * *

Leda returned in just her underclothes and walked over to her pack, and rummaged around the heavy canvas bag searching for a clean set.

Boone hadn't even realized she was back until he heard her lean against the wall with a a soft _thunk_.

He pried his eyes open just enough to inspect the sound, but he instantly wrenched them open after taking notice of Leda's ass turned towards him as she swayed searching in her bag.

It hadn't even occurred to him he was ogling her, more taking a mental note. Her underpants were cutting into her legs a little, and he could see that even though he always thought she was pale - and even though he'd seen her in her underwear many times before - she was clearly much more tanned than he'd previously taken notice of; starting from her hips to halfway down her thighs she was so pale that you could easily discern the area in the darkness. He realized with embarrassment what he was doing when he looked at her back when she stood up, only to realize that - A.) She was not wearing a bra, and B.) It was so worn and old that it was easily see-through-able.

He looked down at his own chest again before she could turn around. Lucky for him he was red in the face already.

With a jolt, he realized that she wasn't going back to the bathroom to change; he clamped his eyes shut, and with his inhibitions dampened by drink, he mildly allowed his mind the luxury of imaging the scene unfolding in the corner of the guest room.

Cut short by the fact that Leda was a master of changing quickly.

She plopped down beside him on the mattress a few seconds later, around the time he'd imagined she was pulling off her shirt. He couldn't help feeling just a _little_ disappointed.

"You awake?", Leda asked very, very quietly.

"Yeah", he answered a little _too_ quickly.

"Good, 'cause I forget if we'd decided if we were both sharin' the blanket, or if only one a'us was gonna use it."

"I don't remember. But I don't mind if you want to share."

Boone didn't look at her face as he tried to convince himself that he truly _didn't_ mind. He didn't see her briefly smile at him.

She slide under the covers, and lay with her hands next to her head as she faced Boone.

He opened his eyes again, and for a few brief moments their eyes locked.

But he remembered; it wasn't like that between them. It was _supposed_ _to be_ awkward and weird for a man and a woman who weren't together - even two friends as close as they were - to be sleeping in the same bed, much _less_ for them to gaze into each other's eyes. So he pushed through how _right_ it felt, and forced himself to be uncomfortable.

"Is that all you're going to wear to sleep? You do realize that it's liable to get cold enough to freeze BOTH of our tits off, right?", he chided.

"Oh, I like t'sleep undressed when I get the chance. It's more comfortable, and there's something absolutely _euphoric '_ bout feeling a blanket against bare skin after sleeping in the same clothes you've been wearin' fer a week in a half in a row. Granted, I ain't exactly got much bare skin showing, but..."

Boone stared at her incredulously.

" _How_ can you be so comfortable sleeping like that? Especially with someone else in the bed?", he asked Leda.

She smiled for a moment, quietly contemplating her answer. He prepared for a bad story.

"Well... To be honest...", she flushed.

"Did... Did I ever tell ya 'bout my life? B'fore bein' a courier?"

Boone took a moment to think.

"You told me you were a whore. That much I know", he answered, barring any delicacy.

Leda giggled.

"Hah, yeah. I was with Ms. Goldie for... God, what was it, eight years? A long long damn time. By the time I'd earned enough to buy my freedom-"

"Woah, woah, woah, _wait_ a minute. "Bought your freedom". _Huh_. I'd always assumed...", Boone interrupted.

Leda gave him a look.

"Eh. Can't blame ya fer that. Most people do. But truth be told, I spent most of my formative years learning to trade. I was 14 and my sister was 17 when our parents hit rock bottom. Ma was a chem junkie, and dad was too keen onner. He insisted she could be saved. But when it came down to it, she saved herself. She made a deal with some kinda scum, a contract selling her two baby girls into prostitution, and her one baby boy into labor. When the men came to take us, daddy didn't know about it. He tried to talk sense into her before she finalized the deal. She stabbed him. Right'n front a'us. I became a woman in more than one way in that whorehouse. Desensitized me to the whole horror of it, which I guess is a good thing - Oh, I had a lotta trouble that first year, but one day my sister took me aside, gave me some sage advice; "It ain't rape if y'never say no. She always swore that once she got out, she'd make sure I'd get out too. Well, as her luck would have it, five months later a John took a real shine to her - a damned rich man, but a bit of a righteous bastard. People always liked "Opal" truth be told. Either way, she and her husband stuck around town for a year, and every time she saw me she'd act and look like she had no goddamn idea who the fuck I was. Hell, a month b'fore she and her husband - and their newborn twins - moved away, she started to look at me with the same disgust or embarrassed recognition that nearly everyone else in town did. She never even told me she had babies. And she never did come back for me.", she ended her speech with dry eyes and that same small curl at the corners of her lips - but the spark in her eyes was dead. Somehow, that usual dancing light in those green, green eyes was snuffed out, making them seem black and lifeless.

Boone was speechless.

Leda turned back to him, and with a sudden flash like a cigarette lighter, the sparks were back.

"It wasn't all bad though", Leda said warmly.

"How?"

"There was a John. Well, a Clint really. He came to see me every chance he got around when I was 17. At first I thought I was a good lay, this client who's face I'd never seen around there IMMEDIATELY askin' fer me by m'whorin' name. But when I asked him that, you know what he did? He laughed! Laughed and shook his head. I nearly popped a vein in m'eye I was so mad! But then he held my hand. Didn't lay a finger on me that whole hour. He told me he'd seen me every day out back at noon, washin' the laundry with the other two youngest girls since I was 15. He himself was only 19 at th'time. But he'd sneak out to the barn and go up to the hayloft and watch us do the laundry. He said "Ruby, from the moment you was 15 I've had my eyes on you". He told me he could tell that "Despite me lookin' soft as a Broc flower-petal, I had the tongue of a temper of a Cazador, and the tongue of a Nightstalker"!", Leda laughed.

It was Boone's turn to look incredulous.

"You. Madame "Savior of New Vegas" Leda Orwell... Were considered by _literally anyone_ to be a bitch?"

Leda smiled and nodding, touching her finger to her nose.

"Stone cold. I wasn't always the _"Pillar of Society"_ type you see today. It took a lotta effort t'be the person I am now, and I am _damn_ proud of who she is. I like to think Clint would be, too", she said, seeming a little sad, but still fondly remembering him.

"He died, huh", Boone said decidedly.

Leda looked down.

"No. Yes. Maybe. Truth be told, I ain't got a single notion a' what happened to that boy. One day he told me he was gonna ask Ms. Goldie if'e could pay off th' rest'a my mama's contract, showin' me a satchel full a' caps real careful like, and the next he just... Stopped comin'. I don't think that Goldie woulda had 'im killed - she'd rather take the money she'd be offered, and I wasn't exactly a favorite among the customers. Sometimes I wonder if I loved Clint, or if I simply felt that way 'cause he was the first person in a long, long, _long_ time that'd shown me _any_ kindness."

"I thought you said there was something good about this?"

"There was. See, b'fore he left, he gave me th' single best thing I've ever gotten. He gave me Lucy Anna."

Boone sat still, puzzled.

"Who is Lucy Anna?"

"She was my daughter."

"... You have a kid?", Boone asked after a seemingly endless silence.

"I... _Had_ , a kid."

Leda's smiled dimmed once more. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at her hands, rubbing them together for warmth. She didn't _really_ want to talk about this, but Boone had told her _his_ sad story despite his own discomfort with regailing the tale. And she owed him as much.

"God, she was beautiful. Had my freckles, my hair - but everythin' else? Everythin' else came from 'er daddy. Same warm tan skin, the color of a shelled almond – hell I even called 'er 'My Lil' Almond'. Same gorgeous grey eyes an' long, thick eyelashes. But Goldie didn't like keepin' girls if they got pregnant. Didn't care what happened to 'em, just lowered their price of freedom _just_ enough they could pay, but not have a cap between herself an' 'er baby. I made sure not to be that _stupid_ though; had caps stashed in th' outhouse. I had enough to come to Novac to have my baby, ironically. But only to have 'er; I had no plans to raise 'er there. Went East aways with th' caravans, settled in a decent sized town. Don't remember what state; just that it was green. I think that was th' first time I'd ever seen green grass and trees, when we were going. For almost two years things were good. Lucy Anna was growing up healthy as a kid can these days, and I took every job thrown my way, from shovelin' brahmin shit, to patchin' up holes on shirts, to cuttin' hair. Even was a lumberjill for awhile. But one day she didn't feel too good after playin' with th' other kids around. No fever, so I wasn't _too_ worried. I brought her to work with me the next day, which wasn't too bad since I was just helpin' some folks with some data entry, and Lucy Anna sat in the corner with her favorite doll and played. It seemed every day she got worse and worse. Within a week she was bedridden. But she didn't die quick. Another week before that. My Little Almond."

Boone didn't say anything. Leda had slumped back on the matress, and her head lolled onto his shoulder. He hadn't even realized she'd moved, but in that heartbroken silence he lifted a hand and squeezed her arm, pulling her closer. Not in a romantic way. In the way an old man might his elderly wife; as a show of appreciation. Or in his case, a show of solidarity and comprehension. Sure; he could have patted her shoulder or knee, touched her hand, or just simply nodded. But it wouldn't have been enough for him. His best friend of nearly four years was confessing to having been through something as heartwrenching and horrible as he. At least his child hadn't been born yet; he only lost his wife, and even then it was by his own forced hand. But Leda lost every good thing she'd ever had in that one single life; the only inexorable evidence that the first person she'd ever loved existed, the only family she had and the only family she'd consider so, and inevitably – judging by her story – her pride and joy.

"I came back to Nevada after burying her. Took a job as a Courier", Leda continued, sitting back up, much to Boone's disappointment.

She turned to face him, smiling.

"So now, you know everythin' about me. And we're even-steven."

He fought the urge to hug her. He had a reputation for being stoic after all. And he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, as funny as it was to have that sentiment just now.

So he just tilted his head slightly, closing his eyes a little. He looked beside himself at the empty space she'd left on the mattress, and patted it.

Leda looked at him, a little shocked.

"C'mon. Don't make me ask", Boone said quietly.

Slowly, Leda settled down next to him, under his arm, and they sat for a while in silence. She had almost fallen asleep, her head back on his shoulder, before he said anything else.

"So do you think you'd be able to track him down?"

"Hmm?", Leda questioned sleepily.

"Clint. I guarantee that the two of us would be able to find him If you wanted to."

Leda considered it.

"And do what?"

"I don't know. Tell him all of this."

Leda settled back down.

"I could if I wanted. But it's been nearly a decade. He's got 'is own life, and I've got my new one. I've got a pretty damn sweet setup if I do say m'self", she yawned.

"Yeah? What would you tell him?", Boone asked teasingly, close to falling asleep himself.

"I'd tell 'im that 'e had a daughter. I'd tell him all about 'er, how proud of 'er I was, how beautiful she was... I'd tell him I waited for him as long as I could... I'd tell him that I've done a lotta good out here... With you... And that... I... Love..."

She trailed off, passing out.

And he only half-heard her.


	2. Chapter 2

The week Leda was trapped in the Sierra Madre was a challenge for Boone as well. Not only was she kidnapped _on his watch_ , but knowing her she was alive and fighting who knows what kind of drastic power by herself. And as strong and skilled as she was, there was a _reason_ she preferred to travel with as many people as possible, if you counted himself and ED-E as people. And the fact that while he was out trying to track down any clues about that broadcast and who had taken her, she had come all the way back to Novac in dirty, ripped-to-shreds clothes and the warm, sunny tan she always bore had turned to frightfully pale skin. Chemical burns from the clouds literally covering 70% of her skin surface, and she was completely and utterly exhausted. Yet despite her health being in shambles, being past the point of exhaustion, and loaded down completely with loot and new armor and weapons - she had only stayed six hours in total, half an hour to dump off the haul, half an hour to eat, and five full hours to sleep; then she was back on the road, properly set up and hot on Boone's trail.

He wasn't sure if it was the three shots of whiskey - neat - or if he was going crazy from not knowing what happened to her nor being able to track her down, but when Boone saw her pale white yet still-freckled face standing next to the saloon door in Goodsprings, he wasn't sure whether to cry because she'd returned out of the midst of nowhere, or because she had died and was now a ghost haunting him for not finding her. She must've heard his choked gasp, because her head snapped in his direction. Though her general demeanor to that point had been bedraggled and dare-I-say downright _surly_ with exhaustion - the opposite of Leda normally - he saw her start to glow with warmth, and underneath the ratty veil of sleep-deprivation and frustration, Leda's trademark effervescent smile shewn through. Just for him. Her clearly living state was enough to make relief hotter than the bottom-shelf scotch he'd been drinking flow through him from his ears to his feet.

Before he'd realized that he had stood up from the dusty corner of the bar and made his way to her - shoving aside a barfly who had been trying to chat up Sunny Smiles - as swiftly as if he were gliding across a frozen lake with but one destination in sight and one destination possible, he found himself with his eyes locked on Leda's merely a few inches from her. He crept closer to her, slowly and cautiously; if this _was_ just a drunken illusion, he wasn't sure he wanted to snap out of it. Leda looked up at him with doe-eyed graciousness and just a _little_ bit of embarrassment, and Boone reached out to touch her tentatively. As his calloused, sandblown fingers made contact with the rough, plastic fabric of her dingy, chemical stained jumpsuit, sensation and emotion came flooding back to him, hitting him like a slap in the face.

"H... Hey Boone... Long time no see...", Leda stammered sheepishly.

"I... Well, I'm sor-"

Leda was cut off abruptly by Boone pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace, wrapping his arms around her tightly enough to force a choked gasp out of both of their lungs.

"What the fuck _happened_?", Boone whispered into her ear.

The look of surprise melted off of Leda's face, and she gently wrapped her arms around his back, resting her hands on his shoulderblades and allowing herself to bury her face in his collarbone and inhale deeply, the familiar and comforting scent coaxing loose a few tears she'd been saving up for when she could afford the luxury of crying.

"Where do I even start?", Leda sighed, "What's the last thing you remember 'fore I disappeared?"

Boone pulled away from his grip encircling Leda with a composure-regaining sniff, letting his hands drop to her elbows.

"We'd made our way into that bunker. You were in front of me, and went to check out that radio. Sprung a trap. When I came to, you were gone. I looked around the bunker, followed your trail for a day or so - well, it took a day to find enough to _have_ a trail - but it wiped out when I reached the mountains. I found your gear a good ways away from the bunker, scattered around the mountains base; like somebody didn't give a shit about the high-grade supplies you carry. We're lucky I was able to find as much as I did", he told her, nearly stumbling over the words as he raced to say them.

He saw Leda's eyes widen.

"Don't worry", he added with a slight smirk, "Shiny is safe."

Her face perked back up as she breathed a sigh of relief of the state of her sniper rifle.

Which led to Boone being even more caught off guard when Leda swiftly leaned in, planting a full - yet very gentle - kiss. He could have stopped at any time, pushed her away with ease; instead he stood in her arms, stunned - yet it took him less than a second to reciprocate.

He couldn't tell himself that these were drunken, subconscious thoughts anymore.

Leda could barely tear herself away from his lips, and the slight taste of warm, cheap whiskey - on it's own strong and burning like cinnamon - that lined his mouth, paired with this moment a long time coming tasted so sweet and stung so good it made her teeth hurt. Boone leaned in when she began to slowly pull herself away. He didn't ask her to kiss him, but at that instant he would've sold what was left of his soul for another three seconds. Though the look on his face was sleepy, almost spellbound yet mixed with surprise, but inside he felt ecstatic. Not like he'd been made new, but rather like he'd been washed clean. There was still an (un)healthy smattering of darkness weighing down his mind, but it weighed so, _so_ much lighter.

" _I was so worried about you_ ", Leda said with a shaky voice.

It took a little while for him to register she was crying, though in truth it was only a few tears, borne out of strong, mixed emotions.

"When I found out where I was- I asked what happened t'you, where they stashed you- no one had seen you. Dog was incomprehensible and God would barely talk about what happened at first. Eventually I gave up askin'; but finally, just before I merged them, God told me he'd left you unconscious."

"God?", Boone asked incredulously.

Leda smiled.

"That's what he called 'imself, anyway. He was this wackadoo Super Mutant with a bad bad case of 'Split Personality'. One personality was dumb 'n' subservient - that one was called "Dog" - and the other was scary smart- _and scary **unhinged**_. He was called "God". Heh, cute, huh?", she replied, tilting her head to the side.

* * *

It took hours for Leda to explain, and even then she didn't have the answers to all the questions Boone had. Leda talked extensively about the Sierra Madre as they walked along towards New Vegas, towards the '38. Boone had stowed her ejected gear in the suite, as well as convincing Rex to stay with the King and ED-E to float around with Cass while he was out searching. He could have - _should_ have - told everyone in their gang of misfits and murderous do-gooders what had happened; maybe they would have found her. Maybe she would have had someone waiting for her when she came home. But he didn't. He didn't know how to ask, what to say, what to _do_ to convince them this was big enough of an emergency for them to go after her. None of them were inclined to worry much about Leda after spending any time with her.

Except for him. He surprised himself with that.

He wasn't just worried about her; he was _sleepless_ with worry. Once a week he'd take the proper amount of rest, and then he'd spend as much time as he could without destroying his mind. He spent the most time with her out of _anyone_ , not even Veronica - who'd been picked up by Leda _first_ out of _everyone_ \- could hold a candle to the sheer number of days, _weeks_ Boone had spent with her.

When he _was_ back at the '38 - and Leda was elsewhere, either alone or accompanied - as they all sat around the table or the den late at night, the others would joke about them.

 _"Hey Boone, I got a question for you_ ", Cass asked him admist the drunken laughter and chatter of the room.

" _Yeah, what'd that be?_ ", Boone replied, taking that moment to sip at his glass of Moonshine a la Cass.

" _Is Lee as good for a fuck as I assume she is_?"

Boone tried hard not to spit his mouthful in her smug face.

" _You've got way too much time on your hands, Cass._ "

She scooted closer.

" _Aww, come on. Everybody knows you two've done it. Sweet, pretty girl like her... Strong silent type like you... She's right up your alley_!"

" _You claiming to know my MO_?"

Cass stared him straight in the eye.

" _Yes. Yes I am_."

He could hear Raul and Gannon stifle laughter.

" _Look... You aren't exactly tied down. Hell, none of us here are; but like Cass here so **elegantly** pointed out, even if you two **aren't** knockin' boots, the sexual tension when you two are in the same room together is so thick you could cut it with a hair_!", Raul said, putting a hand on Cass' shoulder.

Even through his sunglasses, they could tell her was giving them his patented look of disapproval.

" _And you all think that_?", Boone asked.

Raul shrugged. Cass shouted "YES!". Gannon and Veronica merely took a long, long drink from their glasses.

Boone sighed and leaned forward, placing his glass on the coffee table between the couches they sat at.

" _Fine. Fine! You want in on a little secret_?"

He beckoned them to come in closer with his hand, waiting patiently until everyone had moved towards him.

" _There really is..._ ", he said quietly, tentatively, " **nothing going on between us**."

Groans and complaints from his friends.

" _Besides. I'm under the impression that given the option, Leda's more of a Veronica type_ ", he added.

" _Oh trust me, if I thought I had a snowball's chance, I'd go for it. Don't need to be in love to be intimate, especially in our business. A little 'tension relief' is important to aim straight, even if you're more than a little curvy. But she's definitely got her eye elsewhere, and I don't think she's got **any** inclination for casual encounters in the meantime_", Veronica said, like a sister to a brother.

" _And what exactly makes you think it's me she's after? If you know her at all then you know she couldn't give half a damn about what someone looks like_."

" _Hey, just because you care more about the actual gift on the inside, doesn't mean you can't go for the prettiest package. And no offense to anyone else, but out of those of us who spend a lot of time around her - specifically those in this room - you're the most compatible, **and** the most physically appealing. Hell, you're not even my type and even **I** know you're sexy_."

" _Okay, **where** are you even getting the impression she's into me?"_

 _"Oh come on. We've all seen it. She acts like a damn teenager with a crush! Brushing her hair behind her ear, blushing like a lush, that goofy grin..."_

 _"But she always does that. I saw her brush her hair behind her ear last week when she was talking to Rex!"_

 _"Because Rex is like two feet tall and she was bent over to pet him. Face it Boone; Leda's into you."_

 _"She wants that NCR DICK!_ ", blurted Cass, raising the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

" _Well put, Cass_ ", Gannon said with an oddly straight face.

It was only now that Boone was willing to admit that they were right.


	3. Chapter 3

"Holy hell, the fuck happen to _you_?!", Cass exclaimed as Boone escorted Leda through the suite door of the '38.

"Th'short answer is fog that literally eats yer skin. The long answer? Fog that eats yer skin, _plus_ creepy fuckers with glowing eyes, _plus_ an insane piece-a'-shit old Brotherhood coot, _plus_ a group a' characters even weirder than all 'a y'all - an' topped with th' added pleasure of malfunctionin' security holograms. It's been a damn crazy few weeks. Oh, but I did manage t'bring these lil' beauties with me for m'troubles!", Leda told Cass with a big grin on her face.

Leda nudged Boone's arm and reached into her bag, pulling out a gold bar. Cass's eyes flitted back and forth from the gold in Leda's hand to the one in Boone's, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"Is... Are those _real_?", Cass asked, reaching out to take the bar from Leda.

"Completely. I've never seen a solid brick of the damn stuff outside a' old Pre-War pictures, have you?", Leda grinned.

"Never..."

"I have, once. Found a couple in an old bunker while scavenging. Apparently government types have always been as skeevy as they are now; just less openly killing folks", Veronica said from the corner.

Leda turned to look at her, still being supported by Boone.

Veronica looked... Different, to say the least.

When she'd asked for a dress, Leda'd supplied her with the sexiest, sleekest one she could find, a formal gown given to her by the White Glove Society for her help in discovering the ghoulish practices of a member; and Leda immediately presented the dress to Veronica, who shared her dreams of the finer things in life.

And so Veronica was done up in that lovely aged silk and chiffon number, and as it was obviously such a rare occasion, she'd done away with her hood for the night, shiny dark brown curls spilling down just above her shoulders, her eyes made up with a shimmery blue, lined with black kohl, and her lips painted a dark, coppery red.

She looked stunning, and sure enough Leda was stunned. Leda turned her head back to Cass, who was delicately touching the bar of gold with her fingertips in awe.

Sure enough, Cass too was dressed to the nines. While not as glamorously done up, Cass wore herself more sensually; smokey eyes that went from bronze to copper to gold and maroon lips that even Leda - who had her heart set on someone else - felt the urge to have a taste. Leda hadn't given Cass any fancy dresses - she'd never asked anything from her really aside from a request to keep an eye out for good booze when away from her - but she'd easily made do. Rolling with Leda, no one had any shortage of caps _or_ tradeable goods, so it was easy for her to find materials to make the deep emerald, smoldering, ankle length number she wore, two long slits exposing both her legs up to a mere three or four inches below her hips that proved that less really _is_ more; or perhaps she'd simply bought it herself, as Leda hadn't known Cass to have any particular skill with a needle. Either way, paired with polished snakeskin-patterned pumps - an accent that would have been highly unfashionable and tacky anywhere but the Strip when they were originally worn - and her hair washed, brushed, and draped over one shoulder. She'd doubtless be able to seduce anyone she desired - and knowing Cass, that was probably the plan.

"Woah. What're you gals up to? Girls night out? Party?", Leda asked them, tapping Boones shoulder and gesturing to her favorite chair, a sofa next to the chaise lounge Veronica relaxed on.

"Actually, believe it or not we're headed to a big party over at the Tops; Swank's apparently been trying to think of a way to drum up the rep over there ever since Benny's little hostile-takeover scheme got out. Sure the guy's been dead for what - two, three years? Still did a number on the place's popularity after the MP's interrogated Yes Man. Anyway, he came up with this; a big-ass shindig for the more... _Influential_ types. Black tie only. We got invited of course, since we're on just about everybody's good list - though I'm pretty sure it's also because Swanks got that crush on you. I mean, he wants in the pants of every pair of tits with long legs, but still", Cass informed her, matter-of-factly.

"Oh... Damn, I guess I shouldn't've gone and gotten myself kidnapped if there was a big party coming up!", Leda joked.

"Oh, It wouldn't take _too_ much to get you looking right!", Veronica insisted, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor and she walked with surprising finesse over to Leda.

For a moment, she doubted that Leda _would_ be able to go when she gently touched Leda's blotchy red skin and Leda winced and shivered. That much pain was a little more than bearable - especially when mixed with the _agony_ of having to put up face and mingle with a bunch of old money and young thugs.

Veronica sighed.

"Okay. If you think you can handle it; Cass and I basically rummaged through all of the closets and there're a bunch of formal things out on the bed and vanity. It's up to you; we'll meet you at the front of the casino, and if you don't show - then hey, you don't show. Personally I'd love to see you in a gown, but-"

"Second!", Raul shouted.

"Third!", exclaimed Cass.

"Fourth! For curiosity's sake considering you're fairly pretty, not objectifying reasons!", Arcade trailed off, holding his fingers up.

" _Oh my God Gannon you don't call a woman **fairly** pretty Jesus fuck, thank **GOD** you're gay_", Cass replied to Arcade in one breath, slapping her face.

" _Fifth_...", Boone admitted quietly, in his head.

"You know, I really hope you do come. Something tells me you'd clean up _nice_ , Boss", Raul nodded, smirking as he leaned against a loveseat.

"Wish I could say the same for _you_ ", Veronica shot back at him.

Rault clutched at his heart, doubling over in imaginary pain and exclaiming.

"Oh, It's so much pain! Such crippling agony!"

Veronica rolled her eyes.

" _Please_. I'm a gift from God and even _you_ know it", he replied as he straightened out.

"And why again am I going to this as your date?"

"Because a.) that piece of shit Swank made it a rule that any and all ghouls coming must be a human's plus-one, b.) I want to go. Free, top-tier alcohol _mi amigos_. I mean, you can't convince me that the Boss is going because she wanted to go through the arduous task of dipping herself in makeup and dressing up - which, again Leda, you'd look _very_ nice - _just because_. As cute and folksy as she is, she's got a taste for fire to rival Cass."

"... Fair points actually", Veronica nodded, then lightly smacked Raul's chest with her handbag,"fine, hold my bag."

"You're taking it back when we get there."

"Maybe."

"I wasn't asking!"

"Oh _Raul_. Yes you were", Veronica smirked, patting his shoulder.

Leda giggled, absent-mindedly leaning into Boone's side, still clutching his arm with both hands. He pulled his arm a little tighter, bringing her closer to his chest. He could barely resist the urge to rest his head on the top of hers.

If anyone noticed, they didn't say - though he was certain that as soon as they were in the elevator they'd be gossiping about it like hens; but right now, his focus was needed elsewhere.

"I think I can walk on over to the bathroom by myself. Just let me off on my own when in to doorwell", she quietly told Boone, her voice tired and her cheeks flushed-but-bitten.

He nodded in agreeance, gently letting her go as she held herself steady on the doorframe, and keeping a cautious hand by her waist for a moment.

"Boone... Thank you", Leda said, peeking around her shoulder but keeping her eyes fixed on the ancient wood underneath her flaky hands.

"Yeah", he replied, clearing his throat, "It's no problem. You'd do the same for me, anyway."

Leda took a few wobbling steps into the room, and began to shut the door before pausing when the opening was merely a slit as wide as her nose.

"By the way; it would...", she added hesitantly", ... It would mean a _lot_ to me if you came with. You know. As my plus one."

Boone considered the request. He'd love to for absolutely certain - that is, if it were just the two of them. He'd always avoided things like that; the frivolous and superficial point of it all, the fake smiles and even more fake promises, and most of all - the lack of any _real_ dedication to a cause. Even medal ceremonies seemed to simply be an excuse rather than a honoring. He'd never wear a monkey suit and shuffle around a crumbling ballroom for any of the tycoons or leaders from around Nevada or anywhere in the NCR, even a CO; but for Leda? That he could do.

"Sure", he nodded, "I can do that. I'll go shave."

"I know we have a bunch of suits, but there should be at least one tuxedo left in the closet."

"Alright, I'll go take a look. When you're ready, I guess I'll be in the den."

Leda beamed at him, and there was an odd look of both tiredness, dull pain, and an ever-familiar but much more powerful warmth and light, and with that smile she shut the door with a gentle _click_.

Sure enough in the bedroom there were several suits, including the ugly-yet-iconic black-and-white checkered two-piece the man who'd put a bullet in Leda's head a while back. He wasn't a fashion-forward man; he could have picked any one of them and been happy - but he figured that if _he_ was so excited to see _Leda_ in a _dress_ , that _she_ was probably excited to see _him_ in a _tuxedo_. And so he painstakingly picked each step of his formal process to look his absolute best. And he knew that whatever Leda picked would floor him.

She never ceased to amaze him.

She was constantly, pushing the edge of human endurance nearly every time they took out an enemy. Whether they were were skirting human endurance by getting stuck out in the desert for longer than intended and running out of supplies early, or pressing human physicality by running faster than should be logically possible while being hunted down by a nest of Cazadores. Or how long a human being can suppress - and then consciously suppress - their emotional and physical desire for another person; which both had been doing since day three, unbeknownst to the other. And he had a feeling - call it a sniper's intuition - that since they'd gotten striking up the conversation done so perfectly, he desperately hoped they'd be testing human stamina soon.

* * *

When Leda entered the den an hour later, Boone was absolutely blown away. Her face wasn't smoothed and evened out with makeup, save a light glossy-glaze across her lips that almost glowed an enticingly deep and gentle berry color. She wasn't standing in a pair of shoes that held her up to his height. She wasn't graced with jewelry, a ring here, a chain there, nor done up in sheer stockings and gloves. And her body for damned sure wasn't tightly bound by a form-fitting dress.

Rather, she looked clean, relaxed, and although her face - already red from the harsh chemicals of the Sierre Madre village - was blooming even brighter at the sheer nerves and hopes of the space between them, the visibly clear and cool air pushing like thick mud at her skin, the imaginary muck gluing her crudely to the slowly dampening spot on the carpet where she stood.

But she never looked more gorgeous, more _enticing_ than now, with a maroon-colored towel wrapped around her and her hair laying across her shoulders and curling in the humid, foggy air. She wasn't lewd. The towel wasn't draping loosely across her body, showing off just enough or even just a little of the goods. No; it went down to her knees, and she held it fastened tightly at her side with a hand. He could see her eyes widened with fear of the unknown, fear of his reaction.

Her history of prostitution, you would think, would have made her uncomfortably-comfortable with sexual situations. You would expect her to be perfectly confident in telling - and showing - a partner exactly what she wanted from them. But this wasn't some john she'd see maybe once every few months if ever again at all; this was her best friend. This was the first man she'd ever truly trusted, even before her first true love. This was Boone; and as much as she so badly wanted to be joined with him in mind, soul, and body, she didn't want to risk him leaving her forever.

Boone's throat went dry as he slid off his sunglasses and laid them beside him on the couch. Though he could barely register what he was doing he found himself drifting closer and closer towards those captivating green eyes, and before he knew it the gap between them was filled with nothing but shaky breaths and radiating warmth. Glancing from her trembling parted lips to her white-knuckled hand at her collar, and again up to those striking rad-green eyes, long red lashes lining them like a setting on an emerald ring, and soaked in every little detail; every little dot and blemish and imperfection that truly made her perfect.

He lifted a gentle hand to her face and caressed her cheek before lightly plucking an eyelash from just above her lips at the corner of her mouth, and placed it on his thumb nail before blowing it off and into the air, all the while never removing his eyes from hers. He again placed his hand cupping the side of her jaw, and with his other hand took hers, linking them by their clammy fingertips. His eyes drifted to her lips, and he couldn't resist lightly tracing her bottom lip with his thumb as he agonizingly slowly leaned in to kiss her. Leda shivered at the light, almost ticklish tentative touch, and lowered her eyes to watch him close the ever shrinking distance between. His lips touched hers in a wavering moment that sent electricity jolting down her shoulders to her fingertips, and then to her abdomen. It'd been a long time since she'd laid with a man, and an even _longer_ time since she'd laid with one that actually made her body buzz with static electricity like this.

Leda pressed a harder, but still soft and tender kiss on him, and he was genuinely surprised, pulling away to reveal Leda grinning like a teenager.

He couldn't help but smile too.

"What's this for?", he whispered, moving his arms to wrap loosely around her waist and rest upon the small of her back.

Leda beamed even brighter, and her eyes went from wide and doe-sweet ovals to crescents that reminded him of the ocean of California's coast on bright, sunny day. Just like their color would indicate, they radiated with joy - and comfort.

"Well, for starters it's because I've been so nervous to kiss you or say what I want that I completely forgot that this isn't the first time we've ever kissed - and I have a feeling you did as well", Leda said in a low, resonating voice.

Boone bobbed his head in admittance.

"You're not wrong", he agreed with a smirk.

"And... I'm really excited. And worried, and nervous, and sappy, and embarrassed... And most of all? I'm really, really, _really_ happy. I've waiting for this for longer than I even realize. Now it's happening and I... I'm not sure what to do", Leda said, red blooming on her cheeks like roses.

Boone looked into her eyes with a strange expression Leda had only seen a few times. She'd never expected to see it in HIS though. That coy, lustful excitement that grew from a place of genuine happiness, but tapped into sexual energy.

He leaned his head in to hers and stopped with his lips right against her ear.

"Then follow me", he whispered in a low growl

Leda smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

[WARNING: GRAPHIC SM00T THIS WHOLE DAMN CHAPTER]

Boone practically carried her to the master bedroom and carefully threw Leda onto the mattress before turning around to close and lock the doors. Leda's musical laugh sent a wave of static over his abdomen. He hadn't felt this excited, this carefree, this _young_ in years. Not since...

He dared not finish his thought, shaking it out of his mind as he swept his bureau off his head and tossed it aside along with his bowtie, letting the sportcoat drop to his elbows before carelessly letting it fall to the floor. He turned his head to look at Leda with a smirk, his hands still on the door, and she leaned back on her arm into a provocative pose, gesturing with her finger for him to come to her. He eagerly obliged, leaning over her on the bed and placing his hands on either side of her before pushing a boiling hot kiss on her neck as she let out a small sigh and placed her wrists around the back of his neck. His hands slid along the cottony mattress, loosing track of where they were until Leda pulled herself up and away from his lips, putting her own right hand on his left hand - now gripping her thigh.

She quickly slid a finger between the point where the towel overlapped, and it fell to the side with little effort, finally exposing her body before grabbing the bottom of Boone's button-up and frantically working together to disrobe him. His statuesque chest was warm and taut to the touch as Leda ran her hand across his clavicle, tracing a large, reddish scar that ran across him from above his shoulder to his waist. She remembered when he received it, and the memory of the three legionnaires going up against Boone by himself while Leda and Rex took on a pack of golden geckos made her swoon all the more. Her eyes fluttered and her lips once again met him, all the hungrier; soft skin and copper and teeth scraping, biting, tasting.

Every so often she could feel him form a smile, and it made her heart flutter. Her dreams were coming true; and to make it all even better, she was making him happy. It was all she ever wanted. His fingers coiled around the long locks of red at the base of her neck, pushing and pulling her head gently as he could while urgent as he was. It stung just a little, just enough that it sent a shiver across Leda's back and chest, and encouraging her to press her bare breasts to his. She felt soft and supple against him. He'd forgotten exactly how comforting, how _serene_ the feeling of a woman's soft curves and warm breath felt. How incomparable it felt. Not just in a way that made him ache with not want, _need_ more and more of her against his skin - but made time and age and pain of all forms _float_ far away from them to a place they'd never know.

Leda gently laid loose kisses against Boone's cheeks, trailing down to his jaw, to lips, to chin, to his throat, and when he felt her hands on his belt buckle he felt his body pulse with sensitivity and heat. She could feel him through his pants, and smiled even more. If this was him at half-mast, she was going to have an even better night than expected. She could not undo the buckle fast enough. Boone pushed her back with a kiss before reaching down and undoing the buckle and zipper himself, a large bulge pressed against his thigh, the dark pink tip of which exceeded the length of the legs of his underwear.

Sunglasses. Bureau. Bowtie. Shirt. Belt. Shoes. Pants. Socks. Finally, dark grey cotton was rolled down his toned legs and Leda's prize was finally revealed as it sprung up and bobbed eagerly, almost eager as Leda. She shimmied her way up to the head of the bed, lifting her knees and laying her legs together at an angle, delicate fingers tracing a circle just below her hip with a not-so-shy smile. Boone stretched his arms behind his head, all the while looking at her with an expression she found herself intensely attracted to, and she felt a sudden pulse through her extremities.

It wasn't much different from his normal expression of quiet, near brooding anger - but the difference was there. An unmistakable aura of sexual dominance - and made him resemble a wolf about to mate. Leda didn't care if she was on top or on the bottom; and something told her that she was looking at a rough night, aching morning, and unknown, unfathomable pleasure.

He prowled onto the bed, again moving wolfishly, decisively, and hungrily, until he had reached her legs. He slowly slid his hands along the skin on the underside of her thighs, taking care to touch her only ever so slightly, eliciting a shiver and a small, shaky exhale from Leda. With his index finger, Boone stroked the soft, velvet-like skin where her body opened, and was pleased that she was so desperately anticipating him that she was already slick with desire - no. _Need_.

He wiped the fingers on her thigh and briefly rested on his knees before putting his hands on her hips and rubbing just below her buttocks roughly. She sucked in a sharp breath, and Boone became aware again of her sore, sensitive skin and immediately stopped.

"Sorry...", he quietly but sincerely muttered in Leda's ear.

She smiled and caressed the side of his face.

"No harm done", she replied with a kind voice.

With one hand he he lifted her right thigh to rest around him as he poised himself above her, and she wrapped her legs lightly around his waist loosely with a grin.

She pulled his head close to hers in a sudden, energetic kiss, and before he could react after she pulled away she locked her knees at his sides and rolled over, switching places with little effort. Sitting above his lap, Leda rubbed his chest with both hands, leaving red lines where her nails had bit into his skin - just enough that the sensation was there, yet not quite painful. Leda began to rub against the length of him between her thighs, and with a coquettish look that never left their eyes, Leda positioned herself at the tip of his cock and lowered herself down slowly.

Rotating her hips and angling herself as she slid down his shaft, Leda closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of it all. It was as if she were the universe, expanding to including more and more matter, energy being transferred from celestial formation to celestial formation; back and forth, back and forth, at the speed of sound, developing new things, alterations, and changes rapidly out of pieces of what was only minutes before. He was the sun, and she was in his orbit. He was a black hole that she never wanted to escape.

And she was the glimmer of a new solar system - no; galaxy for him. He'd been a rogue planet for so long, drifting throughout space without gravity to bring him to a new place or tie him down to a new star. And now he was caught in Leda's gravitation. And the stars seemed brighter.

As they bucked together in their imperfect harmony, it was nonetheless beautiful, each gentle gasp and sudden moan like a stanza in a symphony of physicality.

What had begun as hungry yet soft-spoken need for each other, had quickly turned into something passionate and powerful, almost fighting for control over themselves - and each other. They rolled from top, to bottom, to the side and so on growing ravenous as they edged more and more towards that ultimate release of intensity to rival the big bang.

Leda's skin had made her grow sore and tired more quickly, and after a few minutes of such intense play, she happily submitted, laying on her stomach with her hind lifted like a cat in heat. Boone worked into her with force akin to a forge, creating something beautiful and powerful not just for himself, but for them together.

One hand was tightly grasping her hip to pull himself as far into her as physically possible, and the other was wrapped around her to reach her from the front as well, his rough, calloused fingers providing even more fervor to the exquisite agony making her legs shake uncontrollably as he rubbed her clit, rough, frictioned circles and strokes leaving her unable to resist or even stand any more sensation, tears in her eyes and rapid, shaky breaths drawing Boone close himself. When Leda let out a sharp, loud whimper, Boone pulled out and helped her flip over before rising onto his knees and lifting her lower body with him. Without warning, he pushed himself back in and began to mercilessly pound into her, hitting all the right places as he went about himself, the excruciating pleasure forcing a near-constant moan to part from Leda's lips.

Boone wasn't always comfortable making sounds himself during sex, but he was completely unable to help himself now as he grunted and staggered, sharply inhaling while Leda constricted around him, pulling tighter and tighter to the point where he could no longer pull himself all the way out. It didn't keep him from his task, and gyrated against the pattern of Leda's own movements, taking care to continually bump and push into that sweet spot he'd found along the wall of her cunt, and each time he rammed it it sent a jolt through her body, making her flinch and breath faster and faster.

Leda reached behind her and grabbed onto the head of the bed for dear life, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head, and her mouth slowly opening and closing to mouth words that simply could not be formed with such overwhelming pleasure pulsing through her entire body. He let out a low, guttural shout and fell to his hands, though he remained inside of Leda. She could feel the thick, hot cum flooding her; feel it pouring into her body like a burst dam and relished it. She couldn't have minded any less, though she didn't know why. They collapsed together, sweat holding Leda's hair on her face as she propped herself up by her forearms on Boone's chest, and though she was tired, she wasn't quite ready to curl up in his arms. And so, after pushing another desperate, starving kiss on his lips, she made sure he watched her as she slowly made her way down to his cock, leaving a trail of nips and gently brushing her lips against his now wired and easily reactive skin - especially his abdomen, his stomach recoiling in ticklish pleasure as she made her way across.

It had been some time since she had gone down on a man - or anyone for that matter - and she simply positioned her mouth just above his cock, opening her mouth tentatively. She took his tip into her lips, lightly licking it and trying to go slowly. She began to push her head down the length of him, tightening her mouth and tasting every centimeter and inch of his dick. He tasted like her now. When she had finally fit every last inch into her mouth and throat, she bobbed her head up and down, lightly grazing his skin with her teeth but sucking harder and harder with every pump of her head. Boone flexed his hands at his side. He was desperate to push her head, or pull her hair, or _something_ to make her go faster, but said nothing; merely softly moaning and letting a stifled grunt out every so often.

She noticed, and lifted her head up to look at him, a string of spit connecting her mouth to his dick still. It drove him wild.

"Go ahead", she said in as sultry a voice as she could muster, gesturing to his outstretched fingers and taking the size of him once again into her mouth, pushing it deep into her throat with a wet gag, but keeping on anyway. He thanked God, and threaded his fingers through her hair and pushing and pulling her head up and down on his cock. It took a mere three minutes to get him to cum again, and though he warned her he was about to, she kept him in her mouth, getting a perverse pleasure from the cum spurting down her throat. When he was finished, she licked every inch of his cock of the white substance, not expecting him to suddenly pull her to his mouth and kissing her deeply, his tongue pushing it's way into her mouth after switching places with each other. She shivered, returning the forceful kiss in kind. He broke it for just a moment, rapidly breathing before pressing his mouth to her neck and biting sharply - not enough to break the skin, but more than enough to leave a mark for weeks. She mewled in surprised,turning her head and trying to extend her neck as far as she could, puffing up her chest to press firmly against Boone's.

He dragged heavy, sharp kisses across her body as he made his way between her thighs, and pushed her legs apart with authority.

With a smirk, he gently pulled the lips of her cunt apart and began to return the favor. The ABC's were working extremely well on Leda, though that could have been due to the hyper-sensitivity his hands helped create, and his tongue was rough and cool against the soft warmth inside of her. His tongue slid effortlessly from her clit, to her labia, and finally to the ultra soft, ultra plush opening of her vagina. The same as when Leda performed for him, she too tasted like himself. He was quick to dart from sensitive spot to sensitive spot as they changed, and found that it felt best to her (judging by the sounds she made) if he lightly sucked on her clit as he made broad strokes lengthwise just outside her slit, and found her legs shaking much more quickly than he'd hoped. Without warning, he plunged his tongue into her cunt and lapped at the walls as she yelled loudly and bucked her hips, Boone pulling her further into his face. With a desperate cry, Leda came for him in force, their mingled sweat and cum flowing from her and making her thighs glisten with ecstasy.

He wiped his face on the back of his hands, a proud grin on his face as he watched Leda's contort and relax in waves of pleasure. He once again made his way up to the head of the bed, and put and arm around her shoulders, pulling her closely to him. She smiled at him with a look of utter exhaustion and utter adoration, and they spent what felt like an eternity just looking into each other's eyes. It was enough to make Leda's heart burst with joy she hadn't felt since... _Ever_. Boone too shared in the sentiment, musing how silly it was for him to feel so giddy.

"I guess this means I have to bathe again", she said with an exaggerated sigh.

"I think we _both_ do. I take it you're still wanting to go?", Boone replied.

"Yeah. I never get to wear anything pretty after all."

"Me either."

"I think I have a dress that'd fit you", Leda giggled.

"Yeah?"

"It's really not your color though."

Boone chuckled and petted Leda's head, and she sighed more-than-contentedly.

Leda pulled herself closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers once again tracing scars.

"I don't want to leave though", she said quietly.

Boone rubbed her shoulder silently.

"Then don't", Boone answered matter-of-factly.

Leda said nothing, but quickly pecked him on the chest and snuggled up against him, lulling to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.


	5. Chapter 5

Boone woke up first and was relieved that their group hadn't gotten back to the Lucky yet. It gave him a chance to clean up - and to decide whether he really did want to be out in the open with everyone, or if he wanted to keep his as-of-yet unknown relationship with Leda a secret. He'd never been particularly good at hiding his feelings when I came to sex and love. Hell, coming up on 8 years ago, he'd walk around Novac with his arm draped around Carmen's waist and big, dumb, giddy grin stuck on his face like someone'd spiked his coffee.

He remembered it fondly for a moment before he took a sharp breath as his stomach suddenly felt like he'd been punched in it. It'd been years - years - since Carmen died. He always thought he'd adapted to her not being by his side, that he had never doubted that what he did was necessary and that she'd surely have forgiven him had she survived somehow. It wasn't quite guilt he felt now; rather, he felt anxious - and for so many reasons. He really did love Leda. A lot. Of course it wasn't the same as his love for Carmen; she was a totally separate entity. Carmen was a city-type, somehow spared from most of the misfortune and hardships that everyone else had endured their whole lives. She was a tad vain and even a little narcissistic, but she seemed content to 'settle' for an NCR Sniper and move to the middle of nowhere with him. Leda was as sweet and understanding as a dog. He'd never once heard her speak harshly or snap at anyone who didn't outright deserve it.

With Leda, he was the one willing to follow her anywhere.

But even with that level of admiration, lovalty, and respect - he had a throbbing thought in the back of his head. Was he ready for this? Things had ended so traumatically with the last person he'd loved. Had he waited long enough? Would it be disrespectful to Carmen's memory? Did he love her enough? Would Leda understand? Could he give her what she wanted, what she needed?

He looked back at her from the now-unlocked door. She was so peaceful - she looked so happy as she lay on the bed, clutching the sheets where he'd lain a moment prior, seemingly unaware he had gotten up and comforted into a deep sleep just by his scent. For just a little while, his questions and discouragment subsided, and he found himself smiling to himself as he watched her shoulders rise and fall with her breaths. For just a little while, the desire to clean up the apartment - and himself - wained, and he walked back to her serene form, ready to climb back into the bed, lay her head back on his chest, and fall back asleep with her tightly curled into his embrace.

But in the end, his uncertainty had won over the euphoric feeling that everything would be alright - good even - and giving way to the lightly pulsing, wriggling worm of anxiety for the future, he stroked her head and brushed her summery hair out of her face, gently waking her. She smiled and opened her eyes sleepily, rolling over slightly to look at his face.

"Mornin' already?", she cooed in a pure, sweet, affection-soaked lilt.

Boone shook his head, suddenly aware he couldn't help but mimic her feint but glowing smile.

"No, not yet. The other's aren't back yet, so I figured maybe we could make a brief appearance at the party. At the very least we need to clean up", he replied with a soft, vibrating voice just slightly above a whisper, gesturing towards the clothes and towel strewn about the bedroom.

Leda chuckled.

"You you mean; the towel is the only thing I'd worn this evening", she replied slyly.

Boone gave her a bemused, incredulous look, and without warning put his hand on the top of her thigh, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh. Right", she blushed, sitting up on the side of the bed and swaying a bit before nearly toppling onto the floor, Boone catching her before she could slide all the way off the bed.

"I... Um... I kind of can't feel my legs much. Probably both the damage and pain from the Sierra, and that thing you did", she chuckled again, a bit embarrassedly.

"I know you hate chems, but I really need a Med-X..."

Boone hesitated, before helping her lean onto the headboard, nodding, and unlocking the door, peeking his head out the door to make sure that no one was there and walked out of sight, coming back half a minute later with a small syringe with purple liquid, shutting the door with a -click-. She reached out for it and he placed it in her hand, turning away as she administered the dose to pluck up the pieces of his suit and place them inside the hamper in the corner of the room. He turned around just in time to see her put the empty syringe on the bedside table and try to lift herself off the mattress. Though she was certainly strong, the pain, fatigue, not to mention the opiods freshly introduced into her blood made her waver a bit before plopping back down onto the bed and looking to him with embarrassed, pleading eyes. He shook his head gently, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk that said "oooooof course", and just like earlier, plucked her up in his arms and did a spin with her draped across his arms.

It seemed that whenever he touched her, the worry and internal stress melted away. She sapped it from his finger tips; from his chest, his lips, his tongue... his thighs.

She laughed gleefully, putting her hand on his jaw and pulling his mouth to hers.

"You can put me down, y'know", Leda said tenderly after parting lips.

"I could. I don't want to", Boone replied matter-of-factly.

She sighed jokingly.

"Well then. Come take a bath with me"

The first thing Cass noticed when she returned to the suite was that it was a little muggier than normal. More humid, and heavily pregnant with Boone's scent - a smoldering musk that was reminiscent of agave and aloe mixed together with pheremones and sweat, and just a trace of long-cooled gunpowder - and Leda's newly acquired scent of dense chemicals underneath her normally comforting fragrance of humid skin and a spritz of cactus flower perfume.

Cass was just hungover enough to not care at all until she'd had a little hair of the dog. Pumps removed from her feet and chucked into the corner, and makeup smudged and mussed, she made a face of minor disgust after stepping in a slightly wet patch on the carpet in the archway to the den - nearly slipping and falling due to the sheer pantyhose still clinging to her her legs - and plopped herself down on the sofa in the den with a bottle of her own moonshine resting in the crook of her elbow.

She turned on the radio, flipping through the channels until she found a good show - some graphically raunchy romantic drama supposedly based on the true story of some chick in DC who brought clean water to the area and ended up banging some ghoul merc - and settled into the ancient, surprisingly comfortable couch.

She was halfway done taking off her previously glamorous attire, when she heard the door to the Master Bedroom gently and painstakingly quietly open and shut with a barely audible click. She glanced over to it and saw a long white cotton nightgown clad Leda walking towards her with a couple towels and another albiet shorter and cooler nightgown folded up in her arms, and a dreamy, absolutely exhausted - but obviously extremely satisfied - expression on her face.

"Hey Cass", Leda whispered happily.

"Hey", Cass mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"I've got some stuff for you should you decide that sleeping in a evening dress, a full face of makeup, jewelry, and a coiff doesn't sound particularly comfortable", Leda explained as she set the pile down next to Cass, who pulled the pajamas off the stack, unabashed by Leda's presence and pulling the zipper on her dress down.

"Thanks babe, I owe you one."

"Nah, don't mention it. Y'all have fun?"

"Yeah, it was pretty enjoyable - except that somehow, I'm the only one of us that didn't manage to find somebody to get taken home by. Fuck, even Raul got a pretty hot bitty to take in the radioactive sack."

Leda chuckled.

Cass unbuckled her garters and patted out the creases on her blue nightgown, before turning back around to nod at Leda.

"Uh, you okay Leda?", she asked nonchalantly, noticing a few small, developing bruises on her neck, shoulder, and wrists; not to mention a few small, red crescent-shaped indentations on her jaw and neck.

Leda went red.

"I ah... I'm pretty good. Actually, I'm real fuckin' good."

It took a moment for Cass's booze-soaked brain to process. Sober, she was sharper than a gecko tooth when it came to innuendo (in YOUR endo). Sloshed, she was a bit slower.

Cass looked from vague bruise to bite to the untameable smile spread across Leda's patchy red face.

"Oh. Of fuckin' course, everybody gets laid but me. Who'd you meet up with? Red Lucy again? That one chick that used to work the counter at Gomorrah? Or was it a dude, I can never remember...", Cass trailed off.

"Cass. No. None of them."

Cass raised an eyebrow, and for a split second it sparked for her.

"Oh."

She processed the rest.

 _" **Oh**_! Oh my God! Dude, oh my God!", she said a little too loudly clasping her hand around her mouth.

Leda's eyes widened in excitement and she giggled like schoolgirl.

"WHAT- HOW- WHEN-"

"Shhh... Keep your voice down. He's asleep."

"Hah, yeah I bet he is! All that pent up energy probably got you two somewhere _intense_ ", Cass slurred crudely.

"I mean... I'm not gonna deny that."

"Seriously, what happened?! What _finally_ made you jump him?"

"Well... Apparently he'd been lookin' for me while I was _indisposed_ with a crazy Supermutant and an old asshole. A _lot_. And when I turned up in Goodsprings t' hijack the radio and let y'all know I was back, he was there lookin' for me. Okay, lookin' for me in a glass a' the cheap stuff, but lookin' for me nonetheless. He saw me walk through the saloon door, still covered in burns and dirt and blood, walked right up t' me - never takin' his eyes away from mine - and I... Well...", Leda blushed.

Cass made kissy sounds.

"Oh my fucking God you two are such a fucking cliche", she laughed, the irony of what she had playing in the background completely oblivious to her.

"I know. Ain't it great?"

"We should write a manuscript."

"An ex-whore turned hero of the Mojave, and an unassuming sniper slash widower. I could see it selling well."

"Soooo... How was it? Spare me the 'magical whirlwind romance' bit. Get to the good stuff", Cass said, rubbing her hands with an exaggerated grin.

Leda rolled her eyes, then lifted her nightgown up to her hips before extending her arms.

"See for yourself. I've never been particularly good at describin' the type of things I like to do. That, and I'm not terribly comfortable sayin' unless I know whoever I'm talkin' to ain't gonna judge me."

"Color me impressed", Cass replied, running her fingers over some of the reddish-purple bruises on Leda's arms.

"I'd always had him pegged for a more... _gentle_ approach to fucking. Never expected him to be a choker or a pinner."

"Aaaactually... I kinda asked 'im to get rough. Don't want to freak him out yet though, so not as rough as I'd like - but God _damn_ if that wasn't the best sex of my life", Leda explained with a tired but proud grin.

"Would've expected you to go all mushy-sweet-romantic for the first time. You know; _making luuuuuuuuuv_ ", Cass joked in an exaggerated, hokey voice like something out of an old romance flick.

Leda shrugged.

"Hey; I've been waitin' for this for a long damn time. I wanted it t' be _perfect_. I wanted t' get as much as I could out of it. I mean, it hopefully won't be the last time a' course, but... Well... YOU know how it goes, don'tcha? You're attracted t' somebody, and it's like... _magnetic_. Like magic. And you don't know for certain that you'll get to see 'em again. Even if it's someone that you've known for awhile, even if it's someone you see every day - in this line a' work, you never know what could happen. So you wanna make it everything you can. You wanna make it something you could never forget. Y'know?"

"I guess. To be honest, I've never really experienced something exactly like that. Sure there's chemistry, and sure I'll be attracted - but I've never really... Had _that_. Ugh, especially not tonight."

"Then trust me. You will. If it can happen to me _twice_ , it sure as hell'll happen t' you, too."

Cass stuck out her tongue.

" _Sap_."

Leda patted Cass on the knee, stood up, and turned to go back to the master bedroom.

"... Hey Leda?", Cass said quietly.

"Yeah?", Leda replied.

"I'm really happy for you. For both of you."

Leda smiled warmly before walking back to bed.

"Plus I had 200 caps riding on _you_ riding _him_ by tomorrow."

Leda raised a hand, middle finger in the air all the way back to the door, listening to Cass drunkenly giggling as she turned the volume up on the radio and letting the breathy, husky voice of the heroine draw her eyes closed.

Boone was completely unconscious as Leda crawled back into bed, yet as soon as he felt the soft linen of her nightgown and the warmth of her face upon his chest, he pulled her close to him, nestling his head into her hair as his security lulled her back to sleep once again.


	6. Chapter 6

Boone stood outside the cavern's mouth with a walkie talkie in hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder, and waited for the familiar sight of a mess of long curly red hair wrangled into a single, extending braid to appear from the darkness. Sure, he could wait inside to cool, dank cave rather than the hot, dusty shack; but the wriggling feeling in his stomach and the frank contriteness of his expression forbade him from it. No; he was going to put off having to face Leda for as long as possible.

All it took was one night. One night for the floodgates to open, one more night to close them tightly once again. He could hear Leda from the bedroom, talking to Cass. He could also hear the ghost.

He tried to convince himself that it was Carla, telling him that it was wrong what they'd done, that it was wrong to move on, and that it was wrong to think that he could snake around the things he'd done to enemies of the NCR, to herself, to their unborn child; but try as he might, he knew too well and too obviously that this was no ghost of his tragic late wife - this was the ghost of the man he was once. He'd certainly always been quiet, ever since he was a child. He'd had an average childhood, and despite his penchance for listening rather than chattering away like other children, he played and learned and grew up about average for a child in a normal community in California. Freeside had always reminded him of his hometown, and it hurt the first time he stepped through the gate and was met with glares at his uniform and his tags and his face.

And then he found Carla. And then he lost Carla. And the process that began when he joined the NCR and began his training as barely a man, came halfway when he gained his bereau at 20 and rocketing to one of the best damn snipers out there, was finalized in two steps: Bitter Springs - which he could trust his superiors enough to follow through with, but not enough to convince himself that "orders are orders" - and the kidnapping and subsequent death of his wife. That elongated step-by-step process didn't end until the day he put a bullet in the bitch who forced his hand's brain. He had Leda to thank for that.

He had no illusions about his true feelings; he loved her. Never in the same way he had loved Carla, and never for the same reasons; Leda was practically the exact opposite. Carla had been sultry, curvacious, and had little in the way of a filter about her true thoughts and intentions and impressions. Leda was bright, lean muscle and hard work, and he couldn't even imagine her saying a single overly-critiquing word ever, despite being honest and unwilling to tell a good-at-heart person a little white lie. Even in appearance, they were little alike; Carla with black hair she swept over her shoulder, dark eyes and skin the color of whiskey that left him feeling as drunk as the real thing. Leda on the other hand had red hair, blue eyes, and was the color of the fine sand in Cottonwood Cove dotted with droplets of rain. They weren't perfect opposites. They both held heavy hips, strong, thick thighs that could drive anyone crazy, and admittedly a similar playful and teasing attitude towards sex.

And the difference between the women he'd loved now, was that to his knowledge, he'd never hurt Carla like he'd hurt Leda.

Not a single day. Not even 12 hours had gone by after _finally_ taking that first step towards having a future, towards being truly happy, that he'd taken four steps back.

Step one: He listened to Leda talk to Cass, listened how happy it had made her, that it was helping _her_ heal too, and still chose what he chose to do.  
Step two: He told her within ten minutes of her waking up in the morning that he had made a mistake in getting physical with her, but didn't regret it and that he felt _strongly_ about her, but he wasn't sure he was ready to move on. Or rather, he thought that - but didn't _say_ that. What he actually said was that he'd made a mistake. That he couldn't do this, and mumbled something about 'not yet', not knowing if Leda heard him say that or not.  
Step three: Despite the fact that she refused to turn around and look at his face, despite the fact that immediately after the "discussion" she left the Lucky 28 with Cass in tow and didn't so much as venture back to the 28 _or_ Novac for weeks - she quietly said that she understood.  
Step four: When Leda came back again, she handed Boone a walkie talkie and told him that when she's ready, if he hasn't contacted her first, she'll let him know. He nodded his head. She told him that she was going to join a caravan on a trip to Zion. He wished her luck. She said she didn't know how long she'd be gone. And he simply told her "stay safe".

And a day or two prior, when the crackle of that walkie talkie popped into life and a buzzing, bastardization of Leda's airy-but-lately-more-timid voice and thick drawling accent filled his stomach with a shot of adrenaline, he'd hovered his thumb over the 'talk' button for far too long before pressing down and delivering a single, flat "Okay. See you soon".

So now here he was, unsure of what he'd say when she got there, and even more unsure of what _she_ would.

She'd asked him to bring along some fresh supplies; a clean change of clothes, some of that agave soap she liked, one of the bottles of aloe gel she'd been in the habit of making before she'd left, a pair of comfortable boots, a sewing kit, and a torn up shirt for scrap fabric. The essentials for cleanup and repair after a trip like she'd had. Boone wasn't sure why he'd done it, but he'd also brought a few other things. A bag of her favorite bighorner jerky and a jar of peanut butter, a few Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles, a jug of homemade tequila, and something that was more than certain to make her happy to see even him - Rex, who stood panting beside Boone with a sleepy but pleased expression on his face.

After Leda'd replaced Rex's brain with that of a Legion bitch named Lupa, he'd not been quite sure what to call Rex, if the dog were indeed still Rex. Replacing his brain almost completely certainly meant that Rex was a brand new dog, or rather - Lupa. But he still growled at the sight of anyone wearing a hate who wasn't himself, Leda, or Cass, and he still wagged his tail and happily ate gecko jerky out of Leda's hand. Perhaps all his memories were stored within the technologies of his body, and they simply needed a brain to run on like a motherboard in a computer. Regardless, Rex was always over the moon to see Leda, and Leda was always overjoyed to see Rex. Maybe that foresight was worth a few brownie points.

And sure enough, Rex smelled Leda before Boone could even make out movement in the cool darkness of the cave. Rex barked and shifted from paw to paw excitedly, his dark eyes darting from Boone to the shade within the opening, hoping for Boone to tell him he could run to his friend and companion. Boone didn't say anything to him though. He only waited.

First came the pale glow of Leda's hat, and soon to follow was the tanned-but-still-fair face full of freckles and the brilliant blue eyes that seemed as cool as the cave she emerged from. She took her sweet time walking from the maw of the cavern, and the whole time she was barely able to keep her eyes from Boone, even as she saw Rex and a smile lit up her face she couldn't help but let those burning-blues flit back to Boone every few seconds. When she reached her beloved and loyal companion, she couldn't help but feel some warmth for the care Boone had put into making sure her best friend was there for her when she got home, and it burned a few of the butterflies in her stomach. She knelt down to scratch Rex's chin and behind his ears, and he let out a small whine of delight at sniffed at her wrists.

"Rex, don't worry; it's just me!", Leda crooned to the curious pup.

She sat for a while, hoping that maybe if she waited it out Boone would look away, or say something, or do _anything_ ; but he remained statuesque in place, and his eyes never left Leda. She shyly turned her head to face his, and met his eye with an expression of discerning that hid quite well the happiness she felt at seeing him after so long.

"Boone", she said flatly, nodding.

"Leda", he replied.

Another awkward minute passed, and he felt urged to add something, _anything;_ until another figure began moving in the shadowy cave.

Following Boone's train of sight back to the cave, Leda clearly recognized the stranger now stepping out of the curtains of blackness. He was young, even younger than Leda and himself, and Boone recognized him as a tribal, though not one he'd ever seen before. He was a bit shorter than Boone, but was strong and lean, with skin the color of a pre-war penny and eyes like gunmetal, contrasting starkly with the white chalk paint and black tattoos adorning his face, and wore a set of leather armor and sturdy boots in addition to tribal accessories and a handstitched bag draped across his torso. The man seemed... _disappointed_ , but a smile remained on his face and he held up a hand to wave hello. Leda lifted herself off her knees and stood in surprise, as he walked closer.

"Follows-Chalk?", Leda asked, furrowing her brow but obviously happy to see him.

He grinned.

"So this is civilization? It doesn't look much different than home. Less hilly, but the same plants, same sand", Follows-Chalk joked.

"Well yeah, but you aren't in a town just yet! What're you doin' here?! I knew you were thinking about traveling, but I figured you'd wait until you were a full-blown Scout! Why not just accompany me on my way home, I woulda welcomed th' company", Leda asked as she pulled Follows-Chalk into a tight hug.

"To be honest, I wanted to talk to my family first. Joshua wasn't happy about my decision, but when I made it clear I was doing this with or without his blessing, he came around. He gave me some supplies and the armor I'm wearing right now; he even gave me a pouch full of those bottle caps!"

"That's great! I'm so happy for you!", Leda exclaimed.

Follows-Chalk leaned to the side to look over Leda's shoulder and gave a warm but mild and timid smile to Boone.

"You must be Boone. My name is Follows-Chalk; Leda's told me much about you. It is nice to meet you", he said, putting his hand out for Boone to shake.

Boone stared at Follows-Chalks friendly expression, then at his outstretched hand, before clasping it reluctantly with his own.

"Yeah. Uh, nice to meet you too", Boone replied slowly.

Leda's face turned red.

"So, do um... So do you know where you want to go first?", Leda asked Follows-Chalk after a pause of silence that was far too long.

"Not by name. I know I want to see New Vegas, and that town you talked about all the time - N... Novac? I don't know how to get there though."

"Oh, I'd be happy to give you directions. I wouldn't recommend going straight to New Vegas, save that for once you've gotten used to a regular city; but Novac is a great idea. Hell, if you tell them that Leda sent you their way, they'll most likely be inclined to help you and give you a discount on supplies and a place to stay."

Leda took her time in explaining things in the Mojave to Follows-Chalk, and gave him detailed but simple directions to Novac, while Boone looked on quietly sitting in on the conversation. He almost didn't notice when they stopped talking and Leda's hand reached out and took Follows'.

"Good luck. And be safe", Leda told her friend gently.

She stood up on her toes, and gave him a soft, sweet kiss.

Boone's stomach lurched, and he felt his nose flare as he dragged in a ragged, segmented breath as Leda drew back her head and settled back onto her heels and hugged Follows-Chalk one more time.

"You as well", Follows responded, resting his chin on the top of Leda's head and kissing it before letting her go and adjusting the strap of his bag.

She, Boone, and Rex watched Follows-Chalk walk off towards Novac in silence, Leda scratching behind Rex's ears absentmindedly. She tried not to act like she felt the burning-hot shock in Boone radiate from him like branches of fiery lightning and calamitous thunder, until Follows was little more than a shape in the distance.

The sun had just barely risen by then. Leda was tired, that was abundantly clear, but after the last month of hiking, fighting Yao Guai, surviving ambush after ambush and attack after attack, and the weeks prior to that of emotional turmoil and nonstop merc work and missions, she had decided days before that it was long overdue for her to have a break. And she knew the perfect place.

* * *

She and Boone had found the villa hidden away behind towering cliffs and stone, accessible only through a winding passage that opened in a shallow cave that sat next to the water in Cottonwood Cove. She had merely wanted to explore the area after the arduous task of wiping out the Legion army there and freeing their slaves and captives; it was truly a massive area, and in truth she immediately fell in love with it. The warm, clean, crystal clear water beckoned her to shed her armor and swim, and the fine, sparkling sand coupled with the cabins and cabanas that dotted the closed off shore made it look like something out of a pre-war magazine. It was truly magical.

And when they had discovered the hidden pass that emptied out in a small private lagoon, and found that beachside residence nearly untouched by the elements and war, Leda couldn't believe her luck. They'd carefully explored each room it held, from the near-empty cellar, to the attic filled with ancient, dust covered artifacts of a simpler, less radioactive time. The roof had held up extremely well and barely needed any patching at all, and though the sunroof of the second floor den was busted along with a few other windows, they were easily replaced or covered with netting.

She and Boone had finally gotten something of a reward for their hardships and sacrifices, and now she was going to allow herself to get some use out of it.

Cottonwood Cove was all the way across the Mojave, and at least a three-day trek - one and a half if they were somehow able to run the entire way without eating, sleeping, relieving themselves, or fighting something or someone.

Leda was more than a little confused when Boone insisted that - instead of settling down for the night in Novac, where they both had their own apartments and it was assured they could rest comfortably, maybe even bathe - they stop walking for the night around midnight and make camp wherever they were. She obliged anyway, and while Boone put up their tent, Leda made a fire and started to cook up dinner.

It was obvious that Boone was upset and on edge, and Leda knew why. In a twisted way, it gave her hope. She felt more and more guilty the longer the thick tension grew between them, and it was even more suspenseful waiting for him to say something - _anything_ \- about what was eating him.

And yet, despite the fact that it was gnawing on Boone's mind and conscience, they made the trip to Cottonwood Cove in almost complete and utter silence. Every time Leda expected Boone to say something, or ask a question, or hell - even just say "good morning" or "good night", Boone would open his mouth, maybe even say her name to gain her attention, then hesitate before closing his mouth again and simply saying "nevermind". The silence was weighing heavily on them both.

So Leda was relieved and a little pleased when Boone finally started to talk to her - _really_ talk to her - when they had reached their hidden getaway; at first, anyway.

"So", Boone spoke up after dumping his pack on the sofa in the den.

Leda looked up at him and waited wide-eyed for him to continue.

"So...", she parroted.

"I take it you made some new friends in Zion."

"Yeah, actually. Everyone there - aside from the White Legs - was very welcoming and kind. They wanted my help and you know me; I was happy to oblige."

"In fact, I take it you made more than just friends with that one guy. Follows-Chalk."

Leda froze, and leaned her head back exasperatedly.

Boone moved closer.

"Leda. Just tell me", Boone said in a low voice.

"Yes and no. Okay?", Leda replied, moving towards the wall to open the dresser drawers.

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Boone, that he was friendly, and compassionate, and even though I fully disclosed that I didn't completely reciprocate his feelings, he was still willing to... He was there. For me."

Leda dared not turn around and look Boone in the eye. She knew she had nothing to feel guilty about, that she needed closeness and the touch of someone who cared for her, that it would help her move on with her life - but she couldn't help it. She almost knew how Boone felt, though she was unaware of it.

Boone stood behind her now.

"Is this a game to you? Because fine. You win. I hurt you; you hurt me back. So if you were trying to get me to react, trying to get me to say i'm ready to try - then it worked", Boone said with more than a little anger in his voice as he put his arm out to block Leda from going around him.

Without a word, Leda whirled around and Boone had barely enough time to register that her cheeks were wet before she struck his face with an open palm.

He looked at her with surprise, and Leda let out a small warbling sob.

" _How fucking dare you_. "Is this a game?" - Is this a game to _you_?", she cried.

Boone looked down.

"You _broke my heart_. It's been _weeks_. I gave up, and tried to start moving on, and _you don't get to be angry at me for this when you didn't even try to talk to me_."

He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but knowing that he had to say _something_. ANYthing.

Leda lifted a hand to silence him.

"I can't be here right now. I can't _talk to you_ right now", Leda told him with a shaky voice, and edged her way around him.

Boone heard the door slam shut and didn't move. Suddenly he was feeling very differently. What had felt like betrayal only a moment ago now felt like red-hot guilt, and the sting and burn on his cheek felt like nothing compared to the shame in his stomach.

Leda sat down on the bench on the patio and tried her best to keep the sound of her crying as quiet as possible, her hands clutched and pressed between her legs. She knew she had nothing - or at very least very little - to feel bad about, but the tincture of heartbreak, grief, hurt, and longing was not logical.

And perhaps if her head wasn't lowered, and her eyes weren't blurred with thick, burning tears, she would have seen the glint up on the cliff's edge. Perhaps if she wasn't so distraught and preoccupied, and if her mind wasn't so heavily clouded and disoriented, she would have had time to react and evade the bullet that effortlessly pierced her stomach and lodged itself in her gut when she heard the _crack_ of that Legion sniper's rifle.


	7. Chapter 7

" **BOONE**!", Leda shrieked from outside the bungalow.

Though he was deep in contrite thought, he reacted without so much as a second thought and bolted through the house and out the door, frantically looking around the yard for Leda, spotting her around the corner doubled over by the wicker bench. Sprinting to her huddled form, he reached down and pulled her up by her shoulders before scooping her up in both arms. He was quick to react and quick to carry her back inside, but not quick enough to evade another bullet, this time instead of hitting Leda, piercing Boone's left shoulder all the way through. He arched his shoulders and staggered, but pushed his way through the shock and pain and caught himself, rushing back inside the villa and slamming the door shut. He lay Leda down on the bed in the downstairs bedroom, but had no time to check on her and assess her wounds - or his. He hurried back to the door and locked it, then pushed a shelf in front of it before checking all of the accessible windows and doors and making sure they were secured.

When he returned to Leda's side, a field surgeon's kit, super stimpak, and a Med-X tucked under his arm, she was flushed and sweaty.

"Where were you hit?", Boone asked frantically.

Leda took her hands off of the bullet hole and lifted her shirt, pulling the fabric away from the sticky wound with grimace and clenched jaws. Boone immediately pushed her hands back in place with his own, pressing down hard and eliciting a sudden and loud gasp from Leda.

They were faced with a choice, and not one lightly - or hastily - made; try to get the bullet out right then and there and risk her losing significantly more blood before administering the stimpak, or inject the stimpak first and retrieve the bullet later and risk the foreign and most-likely filthy material causing an infection and making her sick on top of suffering from a traumatic injury and severe blood loss. Either option was risky, and Boone? Was no doctor.

Leda on the other hand, had plenty of medical experience.

" _Take the bullet out_!", Leda shrieked with pain , barely getting the words out of her mouth audibly from the shock.

Boone put the kit on the bed, and with wide eyes and numb hands he unclipped the lid, pulling the forceps from it and wiping it down quickly with alcohol. He handed Leda the bottle of booze before setting up the rest of the makeshift surgical suite.

She lifted the neck of the bottle to her lips and let out a pained grunt before downing a few swigs, setting the bottle on the bedside, and wiping the tears on her cheeks and in her eyes with the back of her hand.

Boone set a surgical tray on beside Leda, and took a long gulp from the bottle himself.

"Okay. Okay", he repeated in a desperate attempt to convince himself he could do what he needed to, holding the scalpel from the kit above the bullet hole in Leda's torso.

He pushed the razor sharp knife into Leda's skin, and Leda panickedly pushed the edge of a pillow between her teeth and bear down.

Boone mopped the incision with gauze; now for the hard part.

He tried his best not to fish around aimless looking for the bullet lodged in Leda's stomach. Still - there was only so much he could do to reduce the pain, and his heart broke every time she made a noise and squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing. It felt like years had passed by the time he pulled the bullet out, but after looking at it closely it became all-too apparent that it was not intact. But they could weather a little bit of shrapnel for a while.

After quickly dabbing off most of the blood from her skin, he administered the super-stimpak directly to the organ damage done by the bullet, watching the bloody gash in her stomach go from an open wound to a fresh but closed cut, and finally - a burgeoning, dark pink scar.

He looked up from the healing - but still very raw and very fresh - bullet hole and subsequent incision to look Leda in the eyes. Boone had never quite seen her look so... weak. Even burned, burdened, and broken after returning from the Sierra Madre, she still held the internal enduring strength she always did. And right now? She was drained.

She was too pale. Far too pale.

" _I nee... -d blood_...", Leda croaked.

"What do I need to do?", Boone replied softly, taking one of her limp hands in his firm one.

" _Blood testing kit. In my supplies. Find a match with mine... AB+ Fill the empty IV bag, bring it back here_...", she instructed him, her voice quiet and every word taxing her body.

Boone nodded affirmatively, and stood up from his seat on the bed beside her. He took the remaining stimpak and pushed it into his shoulder, wincing as the plunger went down.

" _Boone_...", Leda whispered.

He squeezed her hand and leaned over her.

" _I love you. Stay safe. **I love you**_..."

Boone laid a gentle but intense kiss upon her lips, and for such a tender kiss it spoke volumes. All the things he didn't know how to say, all the things he felt about her, all the things he wanted her to know and feel were conveyed in just that one bittersweet kiss, and his free hand caressed her face, pulling her deep into his warmth.

"I will. I promise", he assured her after parting from her.

He gave her hand a last squeeze and let go of it, and before leaving the room he put the Med-X next to her on the end table within her reach, on top of a pile of books next to a radio.

He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Leda, locking eyes with her.

"I love you too. We're going to be okay. I swear it to you"

* * *

It took longer than he'd hoped to find their attackers, as he made sure to remain unseen by whomever had sniped them both from the surrounding cliff. Most of the small group had evidently fled after shooting both Leda and Boone - but a few remained to make sure they had succeeded. Two he met only a few yards outside the entrance of the hidden path to their house. Neither knew what had happened by the time they lay on the sand and reeds, suddenly unable to move, in excruciating pain, and unable to breath. Spinal cords cut. Minimal bloodloss. Unfortunately, neither of them were a match, either. But luck was with him. He found a Legionarrie up on an overlook, laying in the dirt and sand with a sniper rifle still planted in front of him as he stared through the scope, looking for either Boone or Leda - intending to finish the job.

He didn't even notice Boone sneak up on him until a blunt pain exploded on the back of his head. Half-conscious, he rolled over to see Boone, fury in his eyes and his boot pushing into his chest.

" _You_ ** _stupid fuck_** ", Boone hissed sharply through his teeth, barely containing himself.

" _Here's what's gonna happen now, you ugly piece of **shit**_ \- I'm gonna beat the fucking _**piss**_ out of you. Then I'm gonna take a little bit of blood, and if it's AB+, I'm gonna take a hell of a lot more. Then, if you're lucky, I'm going to kill you quickly. **Understood**?", he told the Legionarrie, molten rage and frozen disdain coating his already cutting tone.

He still found no match - but he found something better; **O-**.

* * *

When he returned to the bungalow 25 minutes later, there was more blood on his clothes and face than there was in the freshly filled bag, but it was enough that Leda would at least have some pallor added to her chest and cheeks.

He tied off her arm and found a good vein, then did his best to insert the IV as painlessly as possible. Leda was too tired to do anything but wince and take a short, quick breath in through her nose. Boone removed the tie, put a dressing over the insertion point, and hung the bag of blood upside down on an unused nail meant for hanging paintings. He sat on the side of the bed and took her hand into his own, using his other hand to caress the side of her face and stroke her hair. She smiled up at him, a bit delirious, but he could feel the love radiating from her.

He pushed a lock of hair stuck her cheek with sweat and smiled back at her.

" _Craig_...", she whispered happily.

"Yeah?", he replied, a little bit louder than her, his voice containing traces of shaky relief and exhaustion.

" _I'm sorry I snapped at you... I love you so **much**_."

Boone leaned over her head and kissed her forehead before pressing his own against hers.

"You had every right. I haven't been saying or doing what I need to say and do. But that's going to change. _I love you_ ; and I'm going to prove it to you. That is, if you'll have me..."

She gave him a wobbly, toothy grin and slowly blinked.

" _Of course you idiot_."


End file.
